


Requiem

by Dulharp



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fire, Gen, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Original Character Death(s), Sad Sad, deathhh, kinda depression, lotsa death????, pregnancy!!, regret or no regret?, second story posted on the internet yikes, such sad, that is the question, there's a lot of references to stuff hahahaha, was a school thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulharp/pseuds/Dulharp
Summary: Requiem-an act of remembranceAka an original work where I kill many peopleOr: Eleanor is alone and lonely





	Requiem

**Author's Note:**

> this was a school thing for a story set in either the great fire of london or the great plague so yeah! i hope you like this!!!!  
> \---  
> also my beta is whistlingwillows from fanfic.net and tumblr and she's a great person and friend!!! go read her fics is you're into hamilton or check her out anyway!!  
> \---  
> please tell me if you like it because it would make my day

11 th August 1666

That was a date she was sure she could never forget; what happened that day was too horrible, too  _ painful _ for her for it to release her from its clutches.

She truly longed to forget what happened but whatever she did, it would always come back to haunt her, day and night, in hallucinations at day and at night, she had nightmares that could make the  _ king _ cry.

During the day, she’d see men with crooked grins and would see her beloved husband in them, and she would dream that it’s him checking up on her, saying that everything is good and that it will be fine and there is nothing to worry about. But as soon as they go out of sight it’s clear that they aren’t there and it won’t be fine. She will never be fine.

And then she would see young men with bright eyes and floppy hair and see her little boy in him. He had just turned 20 and he had his whole entire life ahead of him, but then he didn’t; all his  _ dreams _ , all his  _ hopes _ had disappeared, taken in the night. The last she saw of her darling little boy was him lying on the bed with sores covering his body and a sheen of sweat that clung to his skin before the covered doctor ushered her away from him.

All of this, she knew, was her fault - her parents, her eldest child and her husband deaths. If she never suggested her husband and son to stay with her parents, all of them wouldn’t have died. The only ones she had left were Frances, Philip and her parents in law, but they were old, tired and couldn’t deal with their only son dying.

It was September now. It had been a bit less than a month ago but it seemed only yesterday since  _ then _ . The only reason why she held onto life so fiercely was the fact that she still had young children with her, the oldest, Frances was barely a teenager but Philip was born just a year before Jonathon had died. Thinking of it, she couldn’t help the pain going through her body, as fast and as electrifying as a bolt of lightning. It just  _ hurt _ mentioning their names even if it was just in her head.

At last, her friends tried to get her out of her slump. They brought her towards the city, “City life is fast paced and maybe it won’t be on your mind as much!” Were the small attempts of optimism she knew so little of.   

Deep down she appreciated the thought.  _ Everything _ reminded her of either her son or her husband, especially in her old town where she saw their bed or their favourite bakery. 

Holding back a bitter laugh she took out the locket which had a crumpled up sketch of her family Jonathon had once given to her, he always was good at drawing she thought, sighing internally at herself on how much she took for granted back then.

If she remembered correctly it was 2 years ago when the drawing was made, in the summer of 1664. It had herself and Jonathon, with Andrew standing up, arms around his little sister Frances. It also had Philip in it, but he hadn’t been born yet, he was still in the womb of his mother. They were all smiling, unable to know what was to come next.

Thinking about Jonathon and Philip and her parents made her lips tremble and her eyes burn with unshed tears but Frances and Philip were still with her and honestly? It helped a lot. Knowing that she had to get up for them and had to take care of Philip helped her survive - it helped her live another day. ‘One day more’ was now her mantra, she had to stay on this forsaken, plague-ridden earth one day more.

Standing up from the chair and tucking the locket back under her dress, a little feeling nagged her to check up on Philip and Frances, and so she did She always was the protective type even  _ before _ ; it truly disgusted her seeing the way how the other parents cared little for their children, which was a lot, to say the least.

Peeking into Frances and Philip’s room she saw Philip in his swaddling clothes- she made it much looser so it wouldn’t hurt him or something- and Frances just talking to Philip. At that moment in time, it seemed as if nothing mattered for Frances - just two siblings together, no fear, just the endless love between brother and sister.

The next day came quickly and there were people gossiping about everyone and everything as usual. Whilst Eleanor was walking around the streets of London she saw some women talking and she caught a few words such as, “fire,” “London,” “last night” “mayor” and “fast.” It didn’t take much before she marched towards them, curiosity nipping at her heels.

“Excuse me but I heard something about a fire? Here?” Eleanor asked as politely as she could.

“Yes, of course. We heard from someone who saw that there was a fire in the middle of London. We think that it is nothing to worry about but we could be wrong.” The tallest of the trio spoke up under the gaze of Eleanor, quickly adding the last part as she remembered it,

“I see,” staring at the one who spoke in the eye, she turned around to leave and quickly added, “thank you,” before speeding off towards her house.

Walking into her house, she was immediately found by her eldest who questioned her, “Mama is it true? Miss told us that a fire is spreading quickly. She says it’s nothing because we already had a lot of fires last Summer and it didn’t do anything bad and that it will soon die out but what do you think?”

“Frances, I don’t think it’s much to worry about,” Eleanor responded with a small smile, hiding the silent worry in her. She heard that it was spreading fast and had taken quite a lot of houses already from the excerpts of gossip she heard when going home. “It should die out soon.”

But like the many other times, she was wrong. The fire spread and the worry grew quickly. Soon even  _ Philip _ had figured something was wrong. By the time they had tried to move out she tried to take the rest of Jonathon’s belongings, for example, his wedding ring. But the fire was coming too close and she yelled at Frances to take her little brother out of the house, but she was caught up trying to find the ring, and she did, but at too high a cost.

She hiked up her dress and tore out of the house and heard a baby cry and assumed it was Philip so didn’t stop trying to get away from the fire. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t her baby boy.

It was the 5 th of September, 1666, and she had lost her remaining children.

She now had no one.

Jonathon’s parents died when Andrew was born. Jonathon, her parents and Andrew died in the plague and now, Frances and her 2-year-old, Philip had died. It simply wasn’t fair,  _ if only _ Jonathon and Andrew had stayed with her and not died and  _ if only _ she hadn’t had listened to her friends, who were now dead, Frances and Philip wouldn’t have died.

Why did she have to be cursed? They didn’t deserve death. She did.

Jonathon, who was a wonderful husband who listened to her and cared for  _ all _ beings.

Andrew, who had just turned 20 and had started to court a young lady by the name of Emmeline and they were both so happy together. 

Frances, her only daughter and had just turned 13. She loved to look at plants and trees and loved her brothers so passionately.

Philip… he was just an infant, too young to know about the world but he cheered her up in such a kind and innocent manner. When he stopped crying every night after  _ his  _ death, it was a sign that he forgot about his father and that broke her heart in a way that made her bones ache.

And now? She didn’t know how she could go on, there was nothing she could  _ do _ . She felt empty and cold, the living essence of death. Until something that may not have been so horrible happened.

Near the end of September when she was still in the tents on the outskirts of London, she had realised something. She had a… bump - a small baby bump, and she didn’t have  _ it _ for a while… and the time did measure out. So, the only possible conclusion she could come to was that she was, in fact, pregnant. Oh  _ no _ .

As the months went by, she put all her hope onto her child, who she was sure was to be a girl due to her ‘mother's instinct.’ She called her Isabella, named after her mother-in-law whom Jonathon loved so much. She read to Isabella, she loved her unconditionally and wholeheartedly, even if she wasn’t even born yet.

6 months later, Eleanor was on the bed giving birth on the dirty bed to a little baby when she found out the truth.

“Ms. Davis? I am afraid to say your child has died.” Eleanor was already in great pain and this only served her more pain. Isabella, who she had loved so fiercely and had such high hopes for, just like her father and siblings, had left this Earth for a much happier heaven. And she could only wish to join them but, as if her life hadn’t been one full of twists and turns again, the midwife spoke up again.

“Ms Davis! I see another head coming; you have to push now,” the midwife called out to her, so she pushed as hard as she could and then, a head came out.

_ Oh, what do I do?? This isn’t really Isabella, Isabella is the other baby, and oh God I had twins  _ and  _ are babies supposed to be this small?  _ Eleanor thought frantically.

“Twins usually are this small madam.” the midwife explained as Eleanor had accidentally said it out loud, and she gently gave the baby to Eleanor, “Congratulations on the baby girl, Ms Davis.”

Eleanor did her best to sit up to hold her and as soon as she did, she took the baby like there was nothing as important as her. She took her and felt her heartbeat, which was the only thing that could help her brain going into meltdown from it all.

“My child… I’ll name you Elizabeth,” Eleanor couldn’t help noticing the colour of her eyes were the same shade as her father, “We’ll be good together.” And Eleanor wished for it with every ounce of her being. She glanced at the London sky again, full of smoke and ash. “We’ll be just fine.”

Having a child doesn’t erase all the death and her pain from it but she knows it will be better somehow. She  **will** protect Elizabeth’s innocence as well as she could.

And she swore, for as long as she lived, she would never forget the 5 th of September or the 11 th of August.


End file.
